Steps
by Wicked R
Summary: a series of sketches about the immortal, on and off couple JE, following them all the way down the centuries and into a space pirates future. An Enterprise crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Steps

Author: WickedRum

Disclaimer: Disney has them. I'm simply having fun a little. Nothing and nobody was actually harmed during the production of this fanfic.

Summary/Set/Pairing: post AWE, the East India Trading Company is back chasing after the dead man's chest, Elizabeth could use some help to protect it. Sparrabeth and a little Norribeth, as usual.

Genre: adventure/romance

Rating: go for PG just now, I'm not sure yet.

Repeatedly demoted Lieutenant James Norrington, this time punished for committing the crime of setting a bunch of prisoners free that were captured on the Empress, formerly known as admiral Norrington, stopped in his tracks, carefully listening out to the noises that came from the dock at Tortuga. Uh-oh. From the slow and uneven way the footsteps resonated on the wooden pier and the slurry singing he could tell Captain Jack Sparrow was on his way back to his Black Pearl from the inn. James cursed under his breath in a more piraty fashion than not, many things had changed since that fateful day he'd attempted to ask Elizabeth Swann's hand in marriage. He quickly ducked behind a barrel, if he'd learnt one thing over the last few years, it was that Sparrow was not to underestimated, whether he was inebriated or not, in fact you could never be sure if he was besotted or not either. He watched the pirate dangling up the plank tripping and catching himself with two hands on the ground, barely avoiding falling on his face and making a lot of noise at it. As he stood up right by the railing for a long moment swaying, James would've sworn Jack'd tumble into the water, but in true Sparrow style he avoided it in the end. 

The captain grabbed a not so tight bit of the rigging for inadequate support, them dug into his pockets. He pulled out a series of little objects James couldn't see, but some was paper, he could hear the ruffling. His most annoying foeman giggled, then started to throw the bits he took out his coat into the water, accompanied by some more laughing, making James puzzled and once more wondering about the sanity of the illustrious looter. One thing for sure, he seemed more drunk than usual and James could also be more sure it wasn't a put on performance since Sparrow could not know he had an audience. Maybe the opportunity did arise for a way of getting what he came for in a more simpler way than he'd imagined? He had previously searched most of the ship and had not found the chest. The most he could find was a few drunken pirates asleep below. His own fencing abilities he'd never doubted, it was previously proven that he was better at it than Sparrow. Hand on the hilt of his sword he could just step out and... 

Jack turned and stared at the man suddenly standing before him rather blank. He swayed backwards to blink, his face crunched up in a disturbingly intense expression while he tried to figure out what was going on. All in all, accentuating James' suspicions about the state of his sottish mind. 

Then finally his discombobulation turned into surprisal, but he didn't appear to be bothered by the appearance of the naval officer, "amongst the living ye as well, Mr. Norrington!" He seemed quite pleased. "Last time I saw ye running away wif a box wif a crowd of dead men chasing ye! Still after a dead man's chest former commodore, or is it the lass?" Jack grinned goofily. 

James frowned. How come this man always so on spot even if he can have no idea what he's talking about? That he was still in love with Elizabeth was maybe not too hard to guess, but how would Jack know he is after the chest? At ready when Jack tumbled closer he pulled his sword out. However, he had mistaken the pirate's movements with anything threatening. 

"Still fond of the stuff?" Having pulled it out of his pocket with his left hand, Jack waved his flask of rum around, spilling some in his clumsiness. 

James shook his head and pointed his weapon at his long time adversary, "the Earl of Warwick has promised me governancy of some new colonies comfortably very far from here if I bring the chest back In fact he doesn't doubt I can do it again," he reminded the captain of his earlier victory over him where it really mattered. 

"What? Why? Who?" 

"The new chairman of the East India Trading Company. Very knowledgeable man, haven't you heard? He even knew the location of this chest, all I'd have to do is take it off here this ship." 

"Well, former commodore, I'm afraid you've been misinformed," Jack waved his flask around and in a pretend clumsiness spill he poured the contents into James' face to gain some time to pull his sword, "by your leave Mr. Norrington." He distanced himself so he can knife his cutlass in a diagonal, more defensive than anything movement. What he wanted was talk to the officer cause having Elizabeth strongly involved in the mix has given him some leverage that he intended to use. "But even if it was here it's not mine to give."

They exchanged some unserious blows, but once James wiped enough of the rum out his eyes his strikes became like a storm, strong and continuous having put all his anger over his ruined life into them. "Never stopped you from trying to keep it in the past."

Jack was taken by surprise a few times and barely managed to keep out the way of the blade, thank God he was drunk that his movements were unpredictable too. He flew at Norrington, "the whelp's no like Davvy Jones," he jumped back to block an attack and once again took a more of a defensive stance to have a chance to talk, his favorite method of getting himself out of situations. Not to mention James was a better swordsman, he'd disarmed him before and he wasn't even drunk then. "I doubt he'd do anything fe ye even if ye threaten to pierce his heart if Lizzie's at stake."

It was James now who jumped back into a defensive state now and since they both stood back the loud clashes of the swords that could've woken everyone around chased for a little while. The ex admiral was confused, "what's Turner's got to do with it? He's not still after bunk like freeing his father from the Dutchman? The man's a crook, regardless the rest."

Jack scrunched up his face for a moment, it was his turn to be bemused. Did nobody tell the former commodore who the new captain of the Flying Dutchman was? Well, of course, it they did, he'd be less likely to want to steal it. "Lizzie told me...ei, just how long did it take ye to recover from those injuries?"

"I can assure you Mr. Sparrow, my injuries are long healed and will not stop me from using my advantage over a drunken pirate."

"Will Turner has already freed Bootstrap, the eunuch's the captain of the damned Dutchman." Using the advantage of the surprise of the new information, Jack attacked the moment he uttered the words.

James' reaction time was however better than Jack anticipated. He blocked the attack first, then advanced and sliced at the pirate.

Jack yelped as the blade slashed through his left sleeve and the muscles, then cursed. Not so much because of the pain, more because that was his drinking arm, the one he used to hold the bottle while his other hand was busy with other things! Funny the things the go through your head, he established. He didn't even bother wasting one stray thought at the amount of blood dripping down on his newly scrubbed deck, but did notice that James' sword, (swords??) did seem to come from all directions while he was up against only one man. A more forceful blow to his blade made his grip slack, knocked him over and he fell to the side on his bottom while his cutlass slid abaft.

"The best pirate..." Norrington muttered under his breath as he placed his weapon under Jack's chin. It was a sentence that vexed him for years. Was he maybe finally be able to get over it? "Hand over the compass," he ordered, hoping to use it to finally locate this chest.

"Are you sure it'll work for you?" Elizabeth walked forward with Jack's sword she'd just lifted off the deck.

James gave her a weak smile, his surprise only manifesting itself in his slightly glazed over eyes. Their destinies entwined, again and no matter how much heartache every encounter with the governor's daughter gave him, he'd chose meeting her rather than not any day. And she was right, now that she was standing right there, in his reach and mixing up his feelings the compass'd just swing round. Not to think of the fact that handing over the heart to the Earl of Warwick'd mean selling Elizabeth out, she'd certainly not like her beloved Will being tossed about. He lowered his sword, his decision process resulting in a single word containing every emotion from despondency to excitement, "Elizabeth..."

The woman in question ran to Jack and poured the contents of some vial onto Jack's wound, making it close over. Only the large gash on the coat gave away there was something there a moment ago.

Jack blinked up at him in triumph. He loved the expression on the ex commodore's face, he loved stunning people, it was one of his favorite past-times. It was always good to add to the surprises to keep the astonishment going, so he grabbed Elizabeth by the hips and pulled her close, "Lizzie me luv, why don't ye show the good commodore the wonders of the fountain of youth? That wound he'd suffered nigh a year ago, something like that'd always pull even if yer one of the lucky ones to survive it. And why don't ye give him a drop to drink too?"

Elizabeth looked at him incredulously, having been included amongst the people that were to be stunned. "You want to make James immortal too?"

"That and his word he'd leave us alone. At least fe this century," Jack grinned. He'd ever been proud of his own negotiation skills.

Tbc


	2. Sea Turtles, Mate

Chapter 2: Sea Turtles, Mate

1777, Niantic Bay, Connecticut

"Jack! What...?" Elizabeth was rendered baffled again as the captain of the Black Pearl tried to lead her down towards the stern of the ship. Just as Jack'd kept his predilection to present people with all sorts of surprises over his near a hundred and fifty years of existence, she'd kept her predisposition to resist being pulled into his ever so dubious schemes. But most of all she was pissed off. Jack's asked her here from all the way from the fruitful Cook expedition in the Pacific, not to mention she had no wish to mingle into the raging American Independence War around, especially not with the Hessian troops having just arrived. As the pirate King, she had the duty to claim those new territories discovered in the South Pacific. Would've been all fine by her if Jack had a fair reason to cite her over to the other part of the world, it would've been all fine and dandy with her if he'd grabbed her the way he just had and pulled her towards his cabin instead, like so many times before when their meetings could only be described as high speed collisions, without words, satisfying the needs of two people of the opposite sex who could understand how it felt to see everything that they knew alter around them. They needed each other for a safe spot where they could check that it wasn't them who were unhinged, it was the world that had changed. Will's last leave on land was about four years ago, Jack she hasn't seen for more like fourteen. And now what? Not even a kiss, no caress, no dirty words in her ears, nothing. If not for Gibbs standing there grinning, one of the very select men that Jack'd taken with him to his immortal world, she would've yanked her arm out his grip and faced the pirate captain.

"Sea turtle," Gibbs was the only one who was trying to provide some answer to her confused question. His encouraging nodding was why she'd let herself being shoved along a plank by the rear. She didn't expect however to be abruptly pushed off the end too.

"What's this supposed to mean!?" Elizabeth managed a high pitched and scandalized voice even when spluttering water out.

"I present ye the Turtle!" Jack pointed almost as proudly as if he was talking about the Pearl. Clever, innit?" Before them there was an ovalish object of about eight feet long, floating in the water. It resembled a large shellfish as much as a turtle.

Further disarray was evident from Elizabeth's face and Jack enjoyed the effect for a moment before continuing, "if yer dear husband," (can you call a person over a hundred years a whelp?), "doesn't help us, I had to come up with something that'd turn the scores to our advantage. Washington and my associates like to call it a submarine, the world's first submarine, but since we know the Flying Dutchman existed way before our time, I just like to call it me Turtle! It submerges by allowing water into a bilge tank at the bottom and ascends by pushing water out through a hand pump and is propelled vertically and horizontally by hand-cranked propellers. It can be used to attach explosive charges to ships."

"You came up with this?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously. Jack was ingenious, but not technical.

"What does it matter?" Jack held on to one of the ropes from the Pearl so that he could gesticulate with his other hand, "anyways, I can't help it if Hector kept all his valuables at the same place? There was a little add on bonus that came with the map to the fountain, but at first I couldn't figure out what it was."

"Designed by Barbossa?" That on the other hand didn't surprise her. If not for the pirate lord of the Caspian, the Black Pearl would not have had the imaginative system of oars on one of the lower decks that allowed the ship to maneuver in shallows with a detachment of the crew acting as a galley crew, propelling the Pearl short distances by rowing. There was something however, that was unclear to her. "Is hatred for Her Majesties Ships enough for you to take part in this war?"

Jack looked across the water and pursed his lips. The explanation was as clear as the those Caribbean waters he missed. "The Zong massacre." He didn't specify any further, assuming the pirate king, given she made such a good job of it over the years, would've heard of the slave ship Zong dumping its living cargo into the sea in order to claim insurance. Captain Collingwood gave orders for a hundred and thirty three slaves to be drowned and that wasn't even the worst of it. "They were never tried for murder Lizzie, blacks are goods and property, still. And anyone who's willing to stand against that is worth my support. Not as if I'm going die for the cause...now have ye heard about the HMS Cerberus being blown up?"

"That was you?"

"And have ye heard of a person named James Swann captaining it while it happened? Curious names does our ex commodore choose these days as disguise, don't ye think?"

"Oh, you and James! Like two cockerels for ever! What's the point now? It's not as if either of you can win."

"He only gave his word not to look fe the chest fe a century. Now that that's long over..."

"Jack, it's not as if you know where the chest is lately."

"How much should I bet on the fact that that'll change soon. Do ye feel like trying the Turtle out? Comfortably dark, tight space, oh and ye'd have to sit in my lap. What do ye say, fifteen minutes worth of air enough time? It's what ye wanted darlin I can tell."

tbc

A/N: the mentioned historical events are factual, but some have been misplaced a couple of years or so to fit into the storyline.


	3. Lost Almost Home

thanks for the reviews guys!

howlongmustitwait-I wish you'd give me an address so I could answer properly, oh no, I'm devastated, I thought it was obvious why Elizabeth wanted to go into the submarine on Jack's lap in a tight space in comfortable darkness..

Chapter 3: Smoothing Iron

1815, Portoferraio, Elba

Not minding that his legs were still wet from having stepped out his rowing boat a bit too soon, Jack climbed up on the slopes of a hill surrounded on three sides by the sea to a place they dared to label town. The color of the water, the climate, the landscape and the secret hideouts, it wasn't the same, but the Mediterranean did remind him of the Caribbean. He strolled carefree in the sunshine towards his destination when suddenly a soldier was standing in front of him.

"Hold it right there, sir," said the imperial guard and stepped sideways to block the entrance with his body to the tall white building Jack approached. "State your name and reasons for demanding access."

Normally bumping into officers of any army bothered the pirate at least to the extent he'd opt for the name Smith and deter them by reminding them of some legend or curse or purely ask to be taken to James Norrington like last time, but apparently things somehow change over the course of centuries if one is to travel on steam boats, finds treasure like the Rosetta stone and the HMS Lutine. For the time being anyway. "Capitaine Jacques Sparrow. I have strict orders from his majesty to appear here on this day," with a perfect French accent he answered the bodyguard, one of the French soldiers of Napoleon's imperial guard nicknamed the immortals for some senseless reason.

"Password?"

"La Garde muert, elle ne se rend pas.

Sparrow se rend, il ne muert pas." What a nonsense. When would Captain Jack Sparrow surrender to anyone? Merde! Important thing was though that all the doors were now opened in front of him till he was led into a large study where a sturdy man walked briskly up to him.

He was looked up and down and considered. Napoleon nodded, the pirate's dark skin that was just like a Corsican's, there was this individuality that emanated from this person that he, after all, didn't have to count amongst his enemies, there were these legends that told of wars orchestrated by him against the British. If there was one man it was an honor to meet it was this one, famed immortal, from a world that he couldn't conquer cause he didn't even know. But maybe he could get him acquainted with it? Oh yes, Captain Jack Sparrow, pirate lord of the Spanish Main was to be liked. Especially if..."news, news, what's the news?" He emperor'd been watching events in France with great interest from a distance.

"According to my confidant in the Royal Navy," Jack started referring to James who had become more of a friend than anything else to him over the last decades especially after their side by side involvement for the same cause in the slave rebellion on Haiti. "The plots to your assassination have been finalized and even if it'll prove unsuccessful they intend to relocate you to a distant island in the Atlantic. I could sail after ye there too, but if I could suggest it's now or never if you want to escape. I can also confirm that the French war prisoners have been released from Britain and from the other countries of the coalition as well and me mate the ex admiral says that your army can be experienced and plentiful again with their return. Oh and one more thing for the now or never option, I'm sure my first mate on the Pearl is doing a good job at distracting the British guard ships around the island..."

The self proclaimed emperor waved at his companion by the door, "it's what we've been waiting for. Give orders for readying our ships. Captain Sparrow. Why is it you're helping us again?" He asked businesslike.

"Any chance for a strike at annoying the British'd do for me!"

"Anything else?"

"Countess Montholon."

"What about her?"

"If you see her, which I'm sure you will, tell her that hiding out on land and giving up on everything that mattered for so long, like this, is counterproductive. The pirate lords are being gathered and if she'd not going to be there they could elect a new king."

"What?"

"Maybe she'll explain," Jack grinned impishly. Of course Elizabeth'll easily get herself out the situation, but it was fun to land her in some difficulties. For himself he didn't need to worry, the emperor was curios, but more eager to get back to France. Right now.

Tbc


	4. Spick N Span

Chapter 4: Spic-and-span

1974, off the coast of Florida

Will Turner looked around on the top deck of the Pearl, an almost three hundred feet superyacht with an on board movie theater with beds, ten de luxe suits, a pool and a heliport/basketball court, just to mention the things that were obviously noticeable to Will at first glance. Not a little boat, or anything you could hide anywhere or sneak up on anybody with, but Jack said he used it more out of fun, then whatever necessity. It was one of the largest yachts the ex captain of the Flying Dutchman had ever seen, and that with spending over a three hundred years as ferryman to those who perished at sea. Slashing through the water to reach Miami where Elizabeth was waiting for him, at an apparent top speed of thirty knots enabled by the four propellers and the four diesel engines providing an approximate fifty thousand horse power, Will felt increasingly awkward surrounded by jacuzzi, a garden (!?) and the docking port for a specially designed ten person submarine, not to mention his beating heart in his chest that, for him, felt as unnecessary and uncomfortable like frequent hick ups. Thank God for the road signs that indicated the rum cellar where he eventually at least found Jack, who was so kind to offer him a lift when his curse had finally come to an end after Elizabeth managed a way to conjure the god Atlas, Calypso's father, who was unaware of innocent ferrymen being used for the job before and was very angry to discover that his daughter has found new ways of inflicting sexual imprisonment on others, not just Odysseus. "Far from me to refuse enjoying the pleasures Jack, but how is it you've got so much money? Haven't the funds gathered with piracy majorly suffered from the thirties depression and haven't you and Elizabeth lost most of your money each time you had to change identities?"

"British Intelligence, mate," he pulled Will back up with him towards the sundeck with a bottle of rum. Some things never change, even if the make of the rum does.

"British? Since when do you call yourself British, even if you are? And why do you speak proper English?"

"Hah, no, you've missed much, haven't you? Lizzie couldn't fill you in those days you've seen her? Must've been too busy with other things. Secret Intelligence Service I mean. You have no idea how much they pay for privateers. It was me mate, James' idea during the second world war. He told them he has connections with the pirate king and that we could provide any spy service they pay us for, actually the highest bidder and they turned out to be the highest bidder after all. During that period, meself, Elizabeth, James, Gibbs and your son William would provide most of the imagery intelligence activities, you know, distance and aerial photography and maps. We basically were the Royal Air Force Photographic Reconnaissance Unit ourselves, and we do provide some of the same services today, including those with a satellite."

"Since when does Captain Jack Sparrow take orders from something like an equivalent of the navvy?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow doesn't, it's Sebastian Jairo, who does if it pleases him, but only so. Me current name, mate. And it was fun, it was all fun, like old pirate times especially when we used to do little titbits for the army as well. There was this combined services parachute operation to destroy the radar station at Bruneval in North France. We succeeded there as well. After that, we were supposed to assassinate Hitler. Obviously, we didn't get any money for that…then they sent us to the concentration camps to gather information. You know the two Jewish inmates that escaped from Auschwitz-Birkenau and made it safely to Czechoslovakia? One of them, Rudolf Vrba, submitted a report to the Papal Nuncio in Slovakia which was forwarded to the Vatican…"

"Don't tell me that was you," Will asked incredulously.

"Well, it wasn't my favorite past time, but things you do for a few coins. Hated it anyway, Nazis, killing for just the sake of killing, I'll never understand that, but..." His words were lost as the sound of rotor blades close by made them impossible to be heard. "I should've known she couldn't wait," Jack added more to himself than anybody else. With Lizzie's helicopter on board and with Will back in the land of...well, land, he couldn't really tell how his relationship with the still pirate king would go now. James could share well and Lizzie was always up for a change, but what about the one who had been forced to practically live the life of a eunuch, bar for one day in ten years?

Tbc


	5. All I Want For Christmas

Chapter 5: All I Want For Christmas

2007, Ailsa Craig, Scotland

Jack threw a few cloves of garlic into his open fire pot as a last seasoning added to his salmagundi he was cooking just for himself on the shingle beach of a little island off the West Coast of Scotland, a bird sanctuary, a reservation where no people were allowed to live. It was exactly when the lighthouse keepers left the island as well some years ago when the tower was automated, that Jack had voluntarily sort of marooned himself there, having had enough of trying to cope with the changes that occurred in a seemingly accelerated world. Of course he had his submarine just off the coast, in case he got spotted by someone and he wanted to avoid unnecessary questioning.

The locals called the island, remains of a long extinct volcano, Ailsa Craig, but he still remembered the Celtic name of the stupendous isolated rock from the time he was barely out of his mother's lap, when it was still included in the Barony of Knockgerran, property of the Earl of Cassillis, his Irish grandfather. He just reclaimed it really, there was no injustice there. He was where he belonged, with who he belonged with, even if Elizabeth's decided Will needed constant support in a world he doesn't know, rough thirty years back. The old name of the island, Ealasaid a' Chuain, translated into "Elizabeth of the ocean" and in his own way he was planning to serve his king right there if nowhere else. He belonged nowhere else, no since his Black Pearl was gone. He was stirring the soup slowly, deep in thought, then changed gears and lifted the pot off the grating a bit more energetically so he can set it down in the shallows for a moment to cool it before he can eat it. Hungry, he turned determined, some animal like needs had to be filled even for a heavyhearted immortal...

"Ahoy there..." Elizabeth stood by the water, coming wet from where she belonged to, maybe her submarine he once gave her as a Christmas present. She wore a skimpy top and a mini skirt, just like any other woman of the times with a fair enough body and a young appearance who was confident enough to show some skin. She trailed off however, not sure what else to say. 

"You found me..." Jack noted off beat, but the pot shook in his hand in his agitation and he spilled a good amount of the hot liquid on his hand. It wasn't really a question of finding him, Elizabeth owned a private satellite in orbit just for occasions like this, she might've even watched him sometimes, but coming here after him? Does she not know he's not interested in any more assignments, he contemplated as he set the pot down the ground and absently cursed at the burn marks. They were nothing much, and any sign of them would disappear in a few seconds, the youth water's effects covered such minute mishaps without having to pour some on the wound. "Why are you here?" He questioned her irritably nevertheless. 

"Can't I be here?" Elizabeth asked back, taking a few steps closer hesitantly. She tried to smile encouragingly, but her lips didn't quite dare to go all the way. They both always knew it was going to happen, she always hoped they could free Will one day and then she'll have to at least honor her husband that much to go with him and Jack'll have to accept that, just like he'd always accepted her short flings with James, and Pebblin, another immortal.

Her expression was one of pleading though, her whole appearance reminded Jack of one strange day almost forgotten on a distant beach in Davvy Jones' locker when they came to rescue him. She was so close to giving into their love back then, but he was too scared of her to notice. Now, he was simply too worn, eroded and frayed like the volcanic plug behind him. (Can't you see this ship is sinking Lizzie? I'm sinking.)

She almost ran up to him back then in the locker, but after all she didn't, she couldn't, she didn't feel it was appropriate since she was the one who had hurt him, just like now. No ramblings Jack? No pretense it was all right with him and he'd just ignore the problem like he usually does with these things? No, it's even worse this time, or did Jack really become this glum, uninterested, fed up with life? They all got like that at times, she had done her "immortality related depression", as the select eleven people on earth who had ever drank from the fountain called it, she had done that about two hundred years ago in France after she befriended Marie Antoinette and drowned herself in her parties just to forget there wasn't much more to life than any mortal could find. Jack has fittingly shook her out of that state prompting a visit from the infamous Napoleon himself demanding explanations and she almost gave in and let the emperor drink from the youth water just to get him off her back. Thankfully no immortal dictators were created when she realized that just because Jack took a liking to the rebellious ruler, she didn't have to. Jack and her completed each other, one of them would always make the right decision and they'd get each other out of trouble that way. Jack needed her not to drift and so she had to take responsibility and will herself out of the melancholy. But it wasn't easy and if Jack was going through the same experience she'll have to help him. Oh, those horrible thoughts. It hurts as if your skeleton's changing and rearranging and then all fades to black inside you, to dust, the way it should for someone who was born hundreds of years ago. Yuck.

"I just want you to know, I didn't mean to hurt you," she started. Hasn't things always been complicated from the moment she met him? "Like it or not, I love you tremendous amounts." And somehow that'd forever been part of the problem. Once again, she struggled with words, she chewed her lip while getting it all together. "There was a question I needed to find the answer to and I know what it is now." She looked him in eyes as much as she could, even if he was trying to turn away and busy himself with his soup. "If ours was a normal lifespan, Will probably would've been enough. I gave it a go, a gave him thirty years and more. Say we started our marriage when I was twenty and I gave him the best years of my life. Thirty three years of marriage, not many lived for more back in our time, did they? I gave my first love what he was due and made him understand that's what anybody could ask for. I couldn't ever say this to you before, not till Will was free and ready for a new life, but now I can say it for the first time. I'm yours. If you still want me around."

Jack shook his head in attempt to get his nowadays low functioning, dispirited mind to work at such an out of the blue change of direction. Then again, it was Lizzie who we were talking about here. "I always want you," he said slowly, in a deep tone, his decades long desperation seeping through his voice. He met her eyes steadily for the first time since she'd arrived, the emotions showing there were speaking even clearer than his words. He pulled her close, so tight her heart almost didn't have enough room to beat. 

They regarded each other for a long moment as she lifted her head up, each looking for the reconfirmation the other felt exactly the same and then they somehow got lost in the familiar twinkles of their eyes that once again have provided them with something new, certainty and commitment. 

Elizabeth sighed relieved. He was caressing her face, he always forgave her, over and over again, she knew that, yet she had insecurities when coming here. Was it one more thing too much to forgive? She'll have to make sure there won't be another time, she sealed her promise to herself with a long, hungry kiss. "You know it'd be easier to get naked if you let me breathe." She purred in his ear, then moved down to kiss his neck, her tongue making appearance in between the lips for a little bit as she moved them downwards on his skin showing out his shirt and to his chest. 

Jack was trying to fight with the sensations that flooded him, he still needed his mind in operating order to think. Will he be enough for her? "You're mine, for now. But what about another thirty three years, a hundred and thirty three?"

She smiled at him benevolently, as if explaining things to a child, "you're so much more to me than Will could ever be, but there are no guarantees with anything, are they?"

"Sure as shooting no wif ye," he offered as a sign of piece, getting back to his old accent and a way of claiming her back, getting to where it all got started. He lifted her up and carried her to a grassy bit away from the shingles, set her down and roughly saddled her.

She liked being rough handled, partly a side effect of an immortal constitution, it took a lot to make her feel sometimes, physically and emotionally. He pinned her hands above her with his left and growled as he got rid of her top with a rip. He knew exactly how far he could go with her without hurting her, and he was going to take advantage of that knowledge. He needed to take control, go to the very limit, so that he could convince himself that he really had her. Then he will lose himself in her.

Tbc


	6. Final Frontier

Chapter 7: Final Frontier

Stardate 41202.9, USS Enterprise, sector 703

"Come in!"

Data rushed into the captain's quarters, "Q! I found out about Q!" He raved, which was quite surprising for an android who was supposed to have no feelings.

"Mr. Data," Captain Jean Luc Picard stood up from behind his desk and approached the third in command. "Has somebody installed your emotions chip for you again?" He said gruffly, in that slightly threatening manner he handled annoyances the crew put him through at times. In this way he didn't need to think about the botheration another appearance from Q would cause him. Why oh why was Q picking on him?

"No, sir, excuse my enthusiasm, but I thought you'd like to know that the entity Q has not always been what it is now and in fact it had doubled."

"Doubled." Picard repeated. It wasn't exactly good news. "And how did you find this out Mr. Data?"

"I got a call from a good friend from the short time I spent at the academy, somebody who was the first to treat me like a person. Nowadays he captains the USS Interceptor, sir, James Norrington. The singularity we encountered by planet Naraid? It was another Q forming, getting energy away from her surroundings and transforming herself to join the Q we know."

"Herself?!?"

"Yes, sir. According to captain Norrington, he helped her friend, the once known human female from planet Earth, Elizabeth Turner get to the level of the Q she was separated from in a burst of rage from another immortal, star of fairy tales about ferrying the dead. What might interest you captain is that Q was once human, although mortal long ago, in the sixteen hundreds of those after Christ calendars, so that he might've forgotten the human ways. James says she was confident she could remind him of who he was and what it was like. You also might like to know that once the singularity has formed by the planet, Q had appeared immediately, taking on another form we didn't know so far. His original, apparently. Goaties, mustache, long hair and pretty dirty sir. When still human, his name was Jack Sparrow."

"The most far-famed space pirate of the twenty second and third centuries? Did you know he was the one the saying comes from "boldly go where no one else has gone before?" Of course Data knew, he had data of all kinds, but Picard sometimes forgot that, Data was so much like anybody else for him.

The Lt. Commander nodded. "Further useful information'd be that after pulsating next to each other for a while, the two singularities disappeared together in the Delta quadrant."

"Thank you Mr. Data," Picard sat back in his chair, complacent that Q will not bother him anymore. Then again, if he was really Captain Jack Sparrow and he could ask him questions about it, he wouldn't mind a visit.

The End.


End file.
